


What's a War Between Friends?

by clgfanfic



Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 12:16:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick and Cody are reunited.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's a War Between Friends?

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine The Eyes Have It #3 and later in Boss And Bodacious: Special Collection #1 under the pen name Lynn Gill.

"Hey, Ryder!"

Nick Ryder stopped fidgeting with the plastic cup of punch he held and turned to see who was hailing him from across the flight hanger presently cleared out and decorated for the reunion party.  _So much for safe, shadow-draped corners_ , he thought.

Nick spotted the tall blond lieutenant he'd met ten years earlier in 1970… a lifetime ago.

Cody Allen.

 _Man, oh, man, I didn't even think maybe he'd be here_ , the dark-haired man berated himself, excitement and trepidation waging their own war in his emotions.  _I should've known.  Damn, I knew this was a stupid idea_.

On-again off-again assignment buddies for two long years in a special mission task unit, Nick Ryder and Cody Allen were too smart to get overly attached to anyone in Vietnam.  They kept their friendship subdued, relying on a reserve fostered by the conditions of war and the knowledge that one of them might very well be killed before it was over.

Still, Nick had enjoyed working with the tall blond Californian more than anyone else in the General Johnson's hand-picked unit.  A college graduate, Allen was more open and friendly with Ryder than the other officers, who resented his field promotion from warrant officer to full lieutenant.  It had never bothered Allen that Nick lacked a college education; his talent and flair for flying helicopters into and out of situations most men refused to even imagine was good enough.  They built their relationship on mutual trust and respect, holding the underlying feelings of care and affection at a distance, silent.  Most of the time.  Down deep Nick knew they'd been friends, close friends.  But that had been a long time ago.

Nick grinned slightly at the memories.  They had carried on an easy banter back and forth for two years, sharing wisecracks about the brass, dreams for their futures, tales of women they had known, and bits and pieces of their lives to make it through the long hours.  In 1974 they had connected up again for another two years, sharing quarters at the Ft. Polk BOQ and working as MPs.

Ryder watched Allen continue to weave his way across the hanger, pausing occasionally to shake hands with other men who served in their unit from 1970 to 1972.

1976 was the last time Nick had seen the handsome blond lieutenant.  _Four years ago_ … s _eems like yesterday_.

Their friendship developed quickly over those two years in Louisiana, but Nick had purposefully kept a certain amount of distance between them.  It made it easier when Allen's commitment was up and he left the Army, leaving Nick alone – again.

 _Well, at least I was there for him when Janet dumped him in D.C.  I owed him that_ , Nick thought as Cody broke away from the last obstacle between him and the pilot.

Allen reached him, hand outstretched and a warm smile crowding his angular face.  "Jesus, it's good to see you again, Nick.  How long's it been?"

"Four years, man," Nick said, forcing a smile.  "Long time, huh?"

"Yeah.  Don't seem like it, though, does it?"

He shrugged.  "No, guess not."

Cody studied the younger man.  Something was obviously bothering Ryder, but he wasn't sure he should start off a reunion with a "so, what's eating you" line.  During the years since he had left the Army, Cody had hoped he'd run into the enigmatic helicopter pilot and MP.  Nick had pulled his chestnuts out of the fire more times than Cody cared to remember, but as long as they worked together, things seemed to come out okay.

 _Looks like my luck might be changing_ , he thought, saying aloud, "So, what've you been up to?"

Nick paused, not knowing exactly what to say.  Should he tell Allen the truth?  That he spent his time flying cargo all over southern California for money that barely covered expenses?  That he'd tried to recapture some missing feelings of excitement with weekends and a two-week summer stint on Reserve duty?

Maybe he should tell Allen that he finally went home only to find that all his old high school buddies were gone – some dead in the war, some dead from drug overdoses, others living in Canada or moved away, and a few into things that would get them killed sooner or later, if it hadn't already.

Should he tell him that by the time he went back to Chicago his mother was an old woman who’d died seven months later?  All before Nick could sleep in a regular bed or sit with his back to a door?

 _No_ , he decided, _I can't tell him that.  Hell, he was a fine officer, and a damn good friend.  Allen's made it, that's obvious.  He doesn't need to get stuck hanging around with a loser like me._

_Why can't I get my life together?  It's been so long…_

"Uh, not much… you know," Nick finally said.

 _Didn't we swear we wouldn't come back bitter, burned out vets, man?_ he silently asked his friend.  _Looks like you pulled it off_.

"Yeah," Allen said quietly, wondering what the younger man was holding back.  He looked healthy enough, but the shadows Cody had watched Nick hide behind during the war and their Army days were still there.

 _Eight years since we left the jungles and Nick still hasn't let the walls down so someone can get in.  But I guess we all kept the walls up to some extent_ , Cody acknowledged.  _It was a whole lot easier than dealing with the blood when it finally fell, and it always seemed to fall, like it or not_.

At first he'd thought Ryder was cold, but it didn't take long for Cody to see past the defenses the man had built up to protect himself.  He'd learned to watch Nick's eyes – the man couldn't mask the pain or depth there.  A sensitive individual hid behind those shadows and walls, someone who had seen things no one should ever have to see, done things no man should be forced to.

Cody shoved the memories away.

"How about you?" Nick asked, absently swirling the remaining contents in the cup.

"Well," Cody said, "I finally bought a boat like I kept saying I was going to."

"Oh, yeah?  That's great, really."

 _I knew it_ , Nick thought.  _He's got his act together and he's livin' the dream he kept talking about.  And what am I doing?  I'm flying construction cargo up and down the coast, sleeping in a helicopter or on borrowed couches with nothing to show for the last two years and no future in sight.  What a joke.  I should've stayed active duty; at least then I was doing something worthwhile_.

"Yeah, I'm, uh, living down at King Harbor.  You should stop by.  The boat's called the _Riptide_."

Nick nodded, growing more and more uncomfortable although he wasn't entirely sure why.  _Crowds_ , he decided.  _I hate parties_.

He looked at he blond man, who watched him with an expression similar to his mother's during the last few months she lived.  It was the same look a few of his pseudo-family members used on him from time to time.  Borrowing couches had its drawbacks.  He hated that look.

"Uh, look, I, uh, gotta go," Nick said, turning away.

"You're leaving already?" Cody asked, afraid he'd said or done something to chase the pilot away.

"Yeah, I, uh, I have some things I need to do."  Ryder set the cup down on a nearby folding table and stalked off before Allen could ask further about the sudden "urgent business."

He felt Cody watching him leave and picked up speed, only to hear the ex-lieutenant start out after him at a trot.  Nick threw open the door to the hanger and headed for the red Corvette parked alongside the building.

"Hey, Ryder!" Allen called from behind him, but Nick kept walking.  "Damn it, wait a minute, will ya!"

Nick jumped over the closed door of the convertible and slid down behind the wheel, jabbing the key into the ignition as Cody reached the car.

The blond placed both hands on the hood of the 'Vette, his expression concerned.  "Hey, Nick, if I said something I shouldn't have, man, I apologize."

"No, it's nothing, really.  I just have to go."

"I don't buy it, Nick.  What the hell's doing on with you?"

"Yeah?  Well, I don't give a damn what you believe," the dark-haired man snapped, turning the key and revving the engine.

Allen remained standing in front of the car. 

"Get out of my way."

"Give me your number," Cody bargained.  "I'd like to give you a call."

"Look, just back off, will ya!  Who do you think you are, anyway?  Just stay the hell out of my life!"  Nick shoved the car into first and started forward, determined to escape, even if that meant running Allen over.

It was crazy and Nick realized it, but that didn't make the nearly overwhelming sense of panic and pain to subside.

Cody jumped out of the way, watching Nick drive off.  _Well, Allen, you really blew that one_ , he thought.  _What the hell's going on with him?_

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nick Ryder guided the large pink helicopter over the pier arrangement at King Harbor, looking for the boat Cody had told him about.  He made a second pass and watched as several onlookers laughed and pointed up at the machine, painted a bright pink with a wide open mouth in the front, screaming back at the observers.  Nick ignored the laughs, concentrating on his objective.

A blond head emerged from the wheelhouse of one of the boats, the man's neck craning to see what was making all the noise.  All Cody Allen saw was the underside of a huge pink helicopter before it veered off and headed out to sea.

"Nick?" he said, his brow furrowing with curiosity and concern.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

 _So, what was that all about, Ryder?_ Nick asked himself as he sat in the _Mimi_ 's cargo bay, his legs dangling out the bay door.  _Why did I go down there?_

 _Because you wanted Cody to come looking for you.  Because you're too damn chicken shit to go talk to him yourself_ , a second inner voice replied sarcastically.

"Maybe," Nick said aloud, sighing heavily.  "Maybe so."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Cody hung up the phone, more confused than when he'd begun his dialing campaign three hours earlier.  In all that time he had yet to find a single one of their old buddies whom Nick had contacted since he left active duty in 1978.  Grabbing the phonebooks, he looked up "Ryder," but no local listings appeared.  Information didn't have a listing either.

_Come on, Allen, think, you're the one who wants to try being a private detective, think of Nick as a missing person, how would you try and find him?_

_Helicopters_.

 _Yeah, that's it.  That or I could call the Reserves.  He has to be listed somewhere so they can send him orders_.

Cody opened the phonebook again, this time flipping through the yellow pages to find the section advertising helicopters for rent.  He called three operators before he found someone who knew Nick.

"Yeah," the man said, "I know Ryder.  Damn fine pilot, but a real cold son-of-a-bitch."

"Nick?"

"Yeah, I mean, I like the guy, but, anyway, let me go grab the card I have on him, it's in the front office."

Cody waited while the man laid the receiver down and wandered off.  Something was really bugging Ryder, that much was obvious, but it sounded like this Nick Ryder wasn't even the same man Cody knew from Vietnam or after.  That man cared, maybe too much…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Damn it, Ryder, get that slick out of there!"

Cody watched Nick ignore the major's orders, maneuvering the Huey closer to the stand of trees and the waiting men, who were waving furiously at the chopper.

The major shoved the receiver of the radio set into the pack and cursed the young pilot.  "That idiot's going to get himself killed!"

"He's just trying to get those men out of there, sir," Allen defended his friend. "They're dead if he can't."

"Damn it it, Allen, I can't afford to risk this entire mission just because Ryder wants to play hero!"  The man stalked off to re-set the troops.

Cody watched him go with a small smile on his lips; _Ryder doesn't play hero_ , he thought.  _He doesn't have to; he is a hero_.  The field commission was only one external recognition of that fact, the number of grateful men he'd pulled out of the bush who were continually buying Nick beers at the bases they stayed at was another.

Through field glasses Cody continued to watch as the Huey squeezed into the clearing he was sure was actually smaller than the chopper.  Eight men scrambled frantically into the open door as the VC reached the outskirts of the tree line and opened fire.

The blond lieutenant ground his teeth together, watching the big green craft take several rounds, forcing Ryder to pull up while the last man still dangled halfway out of the door.  The man's buddies yanked him inside as the chopper cleared the trees.

Cody saw one of the rounds shatter the windshield in front of Nick, the chopper spinning two full rotations before it continued its rise, swinging off sluggishly to rendezvous with the waiting team.

The chopper landed, eight men scrambling off, cheering and hugging anyone close enough to get caught up in their excitement at being rescued from what looked like certain death or capture.

Nick remained in the Huey, calling out to Cody and the others, "Come on, you guys!  We got a supply depot waiting for us!"

Major Twist motioned the men aboard and the mission was completed without a hitch.  Nick dropped them in and flew high cover with Richey, their latest door gunner, while Cody and the rest took out the supply cache and located the intelligence they were also after.

They landed back near Plieku, the eight rescued men meeting them with scammed bottles of cold beer and loud whoops.  The entire unit joined in the revelry, waiting for Nick to climb out of the chopper.  Once he was on the ground the pilot was swept up, landing on the shoulders of the exuberant men.  A sharp cry of pain ended the celebration.

Cody helped ease Nick down, the bloodstain on his flight-suit drawing a concerned rumble from the men.

"Sorry, guys," Nick said through gritted teeth.  "I guess I just didn't notice it." With a gasp he passed out into their waiting arms.

It was just a graze along the ribs and some blood loss, but it was enough to get the young lieutenant reassigned to MP duty until he was ready to fly again.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

It drove Ryder crazy not being in the air where he was of the most use to the team.  _Cold?_ Cody thought.  _No way_.

"…Mr. Allen, you still there?"

"Huh?" Cody said, shaking the memories way.

"I said I have the information you wanted.  The card I have lists Ryder as flying out of Simon Field in Oxnard."

"Thanks," he replied, "I really appreciate it."

"No problem.  Like I said, he's a nice enough guy, just plays it a little close to the shirt.  Damn good flyer, though."

"Yeah, I know."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nick put the final twists on the screws holding the panel over the _Mimi_ 's engine in place and stepped back to survey his work.  The old girl was in top shape, even if it was hidden beneath a coat of ridiculous paint.  That particular paint job caused more fights on the airfield than he cared to count, but he refused to re-paint the helicopter.  There was character in the craft's comic expression.  Besides, it gave him an edge, _The Screaming Mimi_ was impossible to miss.

Nick pulled out his wallet and opened it.  _Five dollars.  Great_ , he thought.  _I get the Mimi fixed up and I'm stuck living on peanut butter sandwiches until I can get a run_.

There were friends he could impose on, but Nick shook off the thought.  It was easier to go it alone.  No responsibilities, no obligations.

"Hey, anybody home!"

Nick jumped slightly at the sound of the voice.  _Maybe it won't be peanut butter after all_.  "Yeah, over here!"

Cody took a deep breath and headed over to the large pink chopper, a small smile playing involuntarily across his lips.  That had to be the damnedest thing he had ever seen.

Ryder walked around the craft, stopping short when he saw it was Allen.  Folding his arms across his chest, he waited in silence as the man joined him.

"Hi," Cody said, unsure how he should approach the man.

Nick nodded.  "You need something?"

"Uh, no, well…"  He trailed off.  "Look, I just stopped by to invite you over for a fishing trip."

"What?"

"Yeah, see, I'm getting ready to take the _Riptide_ out on her first run up the Santa Barbara Channel, and I thought it might be a good idea if I brought someone else along, you know?  I figured we could do some fishing out by the Islands while we're at it."

"Why me?" Nick demanded.  "How'd you find me?"

"Huh?  Uh, I called a couple of charter services until I found someone who knew you, that's all."

"You didn't answer my other question," Nick said, trying to work up to "mad," but failing.

Cody could see he was giving in.  "Oh, I don't know.  It's been a long time, like you said, and I thought we could drink a few beers, fish, swap a few lies.  I've been looking for someone to show the boat off to, and, who knows, maybe we could find something to talk about.  Whatdaya say?"

Nick studied the man's face.  Cody reminded him of a little kid waiting to hear if he was going to be able to keep the stray he'd dragged home.  Nick almost grinned, then his eyes turned sad.  _That's what I am, I guess… a stray_.

"What?" Cody asked, noting the thin smile that rapidly evaporated.

"Nothing," Nick said, his gaze dropping.  "Let me, uh, get my gear."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The two men sat on folding chairs, fishing, Nick listening with growing amusement to the extolled virtues of the _Riptide_ from her newest owner.  "…And, I found a guy who has a small speedboat and wants to get rid of it.  I think I'll go ahead and pick that up, too.  I've been saving for one ever since we hooked up again at Polk.  Remember?  I told you I'd get the boats one day.  Wonder what I should call it."

"Seems like you have a pattern going, why don't you call it _High Tide_?"

"Yeah, or _Low Tide_."

They laughed.

" _Ebbtide_ ," Nick suggested, remembering an old Righteous Brothers song.

" _Ebbtide_?"  Cody rolled the name over in his mind.  "Yeah, I like that.  _Ebbtide_ it'll be.  Thanks."

"How you paying for all this?  What're you doing these days?  Investments?  Insurance?"

Cody cleared his throat, a little embarrassed about his financial situation.  "No, actually, I tried that a few years back, but I just couldn't handle wearing suits five days a week and dealing with all those stuffed shirts, you know what I mean?"

Nick grunted.  He didn't, but he could imagine.

"Would you believe I was a lifeguard for a couple of years after I got home?  And I tried going back to college.  That lasted for about a semester.  It all seemed so, oh… unimportant, I guess.  Then I went home for a few months, tried to get my life in order, but I just couldn't find anything I wanted to do.  It was like something was missing."

"Woman?"

"I don't know, maybe," Cody said, then shook his head.  "I don't know, after running into Janet again in '76, well, you know what I was like after that."  Cody sighed, the memory still painful.  "I was close to one, Jill, but she wasn't as serious as I was.  She ended up running off with my last roommate.  No, it's not that.  I don't know, exactly."  He looked out to sea and asked quietly, "You ever miss it?"

Nick finished off what was left of his beer and shook his head.  He knew all too well what Cody was referring to, but to admit it brought the pain back too clearly.

"Really?  Man, I sure do.  I mean, there we were _doing_ something, you know? I might not have agreed with everything that happened, but it meant something when we could help our guys.  Anyway, I ended up doing some security work, then worked with a detective agency for a few months.  The owner reminded me of Major Twist – by the book, back to suits and ties, hell, I felt like I was FBI or something, it was so damn obvious.  But it got me thinking that I'd like to be a private detective.  Hell, with the Army training it was easy.  So I bought the _Riptide_ and my mom's springing for the security bond until I can pay her back.  I'm going into business.  You're looking at the beginning of the Riptide Detective Agency, my friend."

Cody finished with a grand sweep of his hand and Nick smiled slightly, then lurched forward as the fishing pole was nearly jerked out of his hands.

"Whoa!  Hold onto him, Nick!" Cody yelled, watching the younger man wrestling with the catch on the other end of the line.  The battle lasted several minutes before Nick was able to land a large tuna.

"Yeah!  Supper's on you, buddy!"

Nick laughed.  "Yeah, I guess it is.  You gonna make me cook it after I caught it, huh?"

"No, no, I'll do it.  I don't want you ruining a perfectly good fish.  I remember that you're the one who actually ate C-rations."

"Hey, beggars and whatever."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The tuna cooked up better than Cody expected.  Ryder ate like he hadn't seen a decent meal in days and Cody wondered if maybe that wasn't because the younger man hadn't.  It was obvious that Nick lived out of the back of his chopper, and equally obvious that the _Mimi_ was better cared for than her owner.

Cody studied the pilot for a moment before he tread on what he knew was going to be dangerous ground.  "So, where're you staying these days?"

Nick was immediately on guard.  "Why?"

"No reason.  The airport was the only address that guy could give me."

After a slight pause Nick half-growled, "That's the only address there is to give."

"You living at the field?"

"No, man, I'm living in the _Mimi_ ," he snapped.  "That what you wanted to hear?"

"Easy, I'm not trying to pry.  I just thought…"  Cody trailed off.  It was going to be harder than he thought.

 _Okay, Allen, try the direct approach_.

"Look, I was trying to feel-out the situation because I'm looking for someone to help with the slip rent for the _Riptide_ , okay?"

Nick's brow furrowed.  Was Allen asking him to move in with him? 

Not having lived with anyone on a permanent basis for four years, Nick wasn't sure he could make the adjustment, but being around the blond ex-lieutenant made him the most comfortable he'd felt in several years.  It was sort of like camping on Doug's couch, but Cody understood more.

And they had been good roommates at the BOQ.

"You remember how we used to talk about bunking up on a boat?" Cody asked.  "Well, since you're living down here and I have the boat now, maybe we ought to try it out.  I really could use the help with the slip rent."

"Okay," Nick said softly.

It took Cody a beat before he responded, amazed at the quick affirmative response.  "Great!  You'll love it.  King Harbor is great.  There's even an old parking lot that this guy was using to run a chopper excursions out of not far away.  You could probably rent it for the _Mimi_.  It's right there on the pier."

"Sounds like you had all this figured out before you brought me out here," Nick said, his tone slightly accusing.

"Maybe I did," Allen said with a smile.  "Maybe I was just hoping to convince you it'd be a good idea.  Besides, you never know when having a chopper pilot might come in handy on an investigation."

"Now, wait a second, Cody.  I'm not playing detective.  You said you were doing pretty good business with the tourists, right?  I think I'd rather try a little taste of that action.  We could expand the service to include chopper flights."

"Sure, sounds good to me.  I'll probably have to use the charter service to supplement the detective business until it gets off the ground, anyway," Cody mused aloud.  "Okay, okay, no problem, but I still think you'd make a good detective."

"Yeah, well, that's not the sort of thing I want to do with my life, okay?"

"Sure.  You do what you want, Nick."

"Okay, so long as you understand that."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nick heard the sound of the sliding door open and close, then Cody stumbling over to collapse onto the dinette bench in the salon.  The _Riptide_ grew quiet again.

Nick frowned, lying on his bunk.  He'd been onboard the boat for three months now, and he and Cody were getting along fine.  But the blond was continually trying to entice Nick into the growing detective business.  He'd had already allowed the man to talk him into helping out on several all night stakeouts and a run up the coast in the _Mimi_ to catch a guy trying to make off with a bunch of securities from the company that had just let him go.

The excitement was something Nick tried to convince himself he didn't really miss, but he was quickly losing the battle.  Besides, he liked the feeling of helping out the clients.  Sooner or later he knew he'd give in and accept the title of co-partner in the Riptide Detective Agency.  Cody assured him that he already met all the qualifications; all he had to do was apply for the license.

Nick rolled out of bed and pulled on a shirt before he headed up to the main salon to see what Cody had gotten himself into this time.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The blond detective lay on the bench, his eyes shut, his face a mask of scrapes and bruises.

"What the hell happened to you?  Are you okay?"

Cody slowly rolled his head over and opened his eyes.  The movement caused him to wince and the world swam out of focus.  He shut his eyes again.

"Oh, Mr. Carlos O'Riley didn't like the fact that I caught his girlfriend shoplifting from the local merchants and turned her into the cops.  The guy must be one brick short of a castle."

Nick smiled at the slip.  Mr. O'Riley must be rather large.  He walked over and gave the detective a once over.  "You sure you're okay?  You look like hell.  Maybe I should drive you over to the hospital.  I think your nose is broken.  I'm still one up on you, though."

Cody began to protest as he tried to sit up, but both words and movement were cut short when small white spheres of lights exploded in front of his eyes and he felt himself start to pass out.  The last thing he remembered was Nick's arms wrapping around his shoulders to keep him from sliding to the floor.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nick dropped Cody off back at the _Riptide_ , his nose taped, bottles of painkillers and antibiotics in his hands.  The blond watched his partner start off.  "Where are you going?"

"Business," Nick said darkly.

"Be careful, will you?"

Nick didn't look back, stalking off the boat and down the pier toward the 'Vette.  Cody forced himself to the window, tracking the man's progress until he drove out of sight.

Nick had grown distant on the drive to the hospital and on the way back he hadn't said a word.  _Damn, damn, damn!_ Cody thought to himself.  _I never should've pushed him into this.  He's gonna get in trouble, I know it_.

The blond staggered slightly into the main salon and took a seat at the table, thinking that he should make some coffee.  Instead, he sat, thinking about the changes he'd seen in Nick.  _It's like he's afraid to care again_ , Cody decided.  _How am I going to get past that?  What the hell happened to make him like this in the first place?_

 _I knew I shouldn't have left him alone in 'Nam without me. . . . Of course I did it again when I took my discharge and got out after that thing with Janet_.

He shook his head.  _Damn_.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nick sat in the 'Vette and watched Carlos O'Riley as he left the Purple Parrot Bar.  The man was big, with at least five inches and seventy-five pounds on the two detectives, but Carlos sported a few bruises of his own from the encounter with Cody.  Nick waited until the big man was alongside the 'Vette, then reached over and shoved the door open into the man's mid-section.

"Oh, man, I'm really sorry," Nick said, climbing out of the car and half-supporting the man who was doubled over.  "Let me help."

Before O'Riley could catch his breath, Nick righted the man with an uppercut. He landed two more blows, one to the midsection and one to the man's nose.  A certain pleasure washed over Nick as he felt the cartilage give way under his fist.

O'Riley dropped to the ground, spitting blood and holding a hand over his face.  "Who the hell are you?" he bellowed.

"Nick Ryder, a partner in the Riptide Detective Agency."

He left the man sitting in the parking lot and drove off, heading out to the coast highway.  Turning the radio off, he cruised up the coast with no particular destination in mind, just enjoying the mild breeze, the clear sunny day, and the sense of accomplishment warming the pit of his stomach. 

As he drove the feeling changed to fear.  He was getting involved again.

Nick slammed a fist into the steering wheel.  "Damn!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

1972.  Cody rotated home before Nick, who volunteered to stay on and help with the airlift of materials and troops out of the outlying provinces before they fell to the NVA.  It was a crazy and hell-like time.  Everyone knew the war was lost; it was just a matter of time before the final pullout occurred.

They were going home, not heroes, but killers, madmen.

Nick missed the action and closeness of the mission team already.  He missed Cody and the others who had risked their lives with, and for, him over the last twenty-seven months.

At least Brad Langdon was still there.

Brad was the last man to join the team, replacing Tommy Carson when he was killed.  A nice mid-western kid with big brown eyes and a heart as large as the Kansas wheat fields he'd left, Langdon wormed his way into Nick's affection.

Langdon was Nick's co-pilot and the pair grew very close after the rest of the team disbanded, most of them heading stateside.  In some ways the man reminded Nick of a younger Cody Allen.  Nick spent a lot of time wondering what Allen was doing back home.  Of all the men in the unit, Nick was closest to Allen.  They worked well together, each knowing the other's strengths and weaknesses.

Nick smiled.  He and Cody could handle damn near anything together.  So, while Nick missed the blond lieutenant, Brad wasn't a bad guy – he just never lost the innocence that he should have to survive.

It was their last run.  Brad was nervous and edgy, but Nick couldn't draw a reason out of him.  They picked up a final load of supplies and papers and were ready to head for the ship where they would land, then cruise on home.  Brad signed the supply sheet and started back toward the Huey.

Nick nervously watched the crowd that clamored at the gate to the base, natives who had supported the South.  They tried desperately to gain entrance to the facility, seeking a way to escape the country before the North Vietnamese troops arrived and they were executed or punished for their complicity.

Why the hell was Brad dragging his ass on this?

One woman managed to climb to the top of the fence and threw herself over into the compound.  Brad saw her and sprinted to intercept the MPs heading for her.  Nick scowled as Brad exchanged several heated words with the MPs, finally gaining control over the woman and heading back toward the chopper with her in tow.

"What're you doing man?  We have to get out of here, now!"

"Nick, this is Mei Lai; she's gonna have my baby, man.  I can't leave her here.  You understand?  Go on, get outta here, I'll catch one of the transports home, but I have to get papers for Mei.  Go on, man.  Have a beer for me when you get home!"

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I am.  Mei is coming home with me."

Nick took the supply sheet and climbed into the chopper.  Stupid, stupid, stupid!  That girl was using Brad, Nick could see it in her eyes, and he was going to let it happen.

He started to climb out of the compound when the gates gave way and the MPs were overrun by the crowd.  Several of the people went for Brad and the girl, angry that she would survive while they would not.  Nick watched with growing horror as angry men and women began beating the pair to death.

"No!" Nick screamed, dropping down and trying to scatter the crowd.

Brad swayed on his feet, blood running down his face from where someone had used a rock to cave in part of his skull.  Mei lay unmoving on the ground while the crowd prodded her.

"Come on, man!" Nick screamed at the man.

Brad took a step toward the hovering chopper as Nick felt the Huey rock.  Glancing back over his shoulder, he saw a man trying to pull himself into the cargo bay.  Nick jerked the stick and the chopper rocked sharply side to side, sending the man back to the ground.  When he looked back he saw Brad fall, a bullet tearing through his chest.  Nick hauled the stick up, the chopper climbing sluggishly into the air as Brad's body hit the tarmac.  Nick's last sight of Vietnam was the kid's unblinking eyes, staring up at him.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nick blinked rapidly and shook his head as an oncoming car rushed past, horn blazing.  Easing up on the accelerator, he let the 'Vette drop back down to fifty-five until he found a wide shoulder and pulled off the highway.

Sitting in the car, shaking, sweat running down his face and back, Nick tried to forget.  Never overtly open with the men in the unit – not after watching two co-pilots and three gunners killed in his first four months in-country – Nick knew he was well liked and respected, but he never let himself get too close to them.

 _Except Cody and Brad_ , he thought.

 _Yeah, and look what happened to Brad!_ he screamed at himself.  _Every time you get too close, you get them killed, Ryder_.

Nick rubbed the back of his neck and decided that he was heading straight back to the _Riptide_ and moving out before anything happened to Cody.

He stabbed the car into first and swung back onto the freeway, headed back for King Harbor.

 _I'm not getting any more of the people I care about killed_.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Cody sat in the salon, working on his umpteenth cup of stale coffee and wondering where the hell Nick was.  He expected the man to take a little time to think, but it was damn near midnight and he still wasn't back.  _Much longer and I'll have to start calling the hospitals and the highway patrol_.

The sound of shoes hitting the deck of the _Riptide_ drove his spirits up and Cody reached over and flipped the overhead light on.  "Hey, Nick, where the hell've you been, buddy?"

The louvered door opened and Cody waited, prepared for a smart-assed answer, but he wasn't prepared for the entrance of Carlos O'Riley.  The big man held a heavy length of pipe, one end wrapped with black electrician's tape.

"Payback's a bitch, Allen," he snarled.

"What the hell're you doing?" Cody asked, wondering if he could reach the .45 sitting next to the coffeepot before O'Riley beat him to death.

 _Nick, where are you?  I need a little backup here, buddy_.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nick parked the 'Vette and looked down at the _Riptide_ , moored at her slip.  The main salon light came on suddenly and Nick wondered briefly if Cody had heard him pull up.  A large silhouette passed across the windows and Nick felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.  He reached back and felt the .45 tucked safely in the back of his jeans as he headed off down the pier at a trot.

The sound of a loud crash echoing from the salon converted the trot into a dead run and Nick nearly hurdled the _Riptide_ 's railing.

He swung around the open sliding door, gun drawn, just in time to watch O'Riley grab the front of Cody's shirt and draw back the pipe for a killing blow.

"Don't do it!" Nick yelled, his voice brutal and deadly.

O'Riley froze, holding Cody while he looked over his shoulder at his assailant, who held the .45 aimed at his head.

"I _won't_ miss at this range," Nick snarled.  "Let him go!  Now!"

Carlos released Cody, who fell back onto the floor with a groan.  "What took you so long?" he moaned at Nick, who motioned O'Riley to lay the pipe down.

"Sit down," Nick ordered, waiting until Carlos was settled before he went to Cody and helped him up and into a chair.  "I'm gonna call the police and an ambulance."

"Good idea," Cody said.  "I think he needs it."

"The ambulance is for you," Nick said softly, moving off to call, his eyes and gun still trained on Carlos.

"Thanks, buddy," Cody whispered, his eyes sliding shut.  "I knew you'd get here  . . . . Just like the old days, huh?"

Nick shivered slightly as the 911 operator answered.  "Yeah, I need an ambulance and the police at Pier 56, King Harbor, slip seven, the _Riptide_."

Carlos smiled as Cody slid down in the chair, unconscious.

"Cody?" Nick called, then turned his full attention back to O'Riley.  "He dies, man, and I will kill you.  You won't be able to run far or fast enough to get away from me."

The smile faded from O'Riley's face, the tone of Nick's voice making it abundantly clear that the big man had just heard one of life's absolute truths.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Cody lay back in the hospital bed and sighed.  For three days he hadn't seen or heard from Nick.  It was time for him to leave.  _Guess I'll have to call a cab…  I sure as hell didn't think Nick would make me go home in a hospital gown!_

Cody reached for the phone as the door swung open, a dark-haired man walking in carrying a folded pair of jeans and a shirt.  A pair of boat-shoes was tucked under one arm.

"Uh, hi," Nick said, handing the stuff over to the blond.  "The doctor said you're ready to go home."

Cody took the clothes, saying softly, "I didn't think you were still around."

Nick paced away, uncomfortable with what he had to tell the detective.  He stopped, staring out the hospital window.  "I was, uh, sorta busy."

"Oh?" Cody said, starting to dress.

"Yeah.  Someone had to get the _Riptide_ fixed up, and there were those two cases you'd started that needed to be followed up on."

Cody pulled the rest of his clothes on in silence.  "You finished the cases?" he finally asked as he tied his shoelaces.

"Well, yeah, I, uh, I figured you might need the money."

Cody stood.  "That sounds like a good-bye, Nick.  You planning on leaving?"

Nick nodded, still staring out the window.  "I think it's time I was moving on."

"Why?  The charter service is going well.  If it's O'Riley, the cops told me the guy's been in and out of prison and institutions because he likes to beat people up.  Most of the cases aren't that dangerous, but I swear I'll stop pushing you to help."

"It's not the danger, Cody," he said, turning.  "We've lived through worse than this."

"What is it then?"

"Look, I just don't want to get you killed, that's all."

Nick left a speechless Cody standing in the center of the room as he walked out. The blond detective grabbed the wallet that had fallen out of his pant's pocket and followed Nick out, catching up to him in the hallway.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Cody waited until they were on the road back to Pier 56 before he asked, "What did you mean?  About you getting me killed?  It seems to me that it was me who could've gotten us killed with that ape."

"Cody, listen, I know you mean well, but every time I get close to someone, they die, man – every time.  I just can't take that anymore, okay?"

"Nick, what're you talking about?  In Nam you saved our butts more times than I can count.  I don't understand this."

Nick begrudgingly related the story about Brad.  "I was close with him, you know, sort of like we were.  When I flew out of there all I could think was I was leaving him behind."

"So now you're leaving me behind, is that it?"

"No, that's not it, man.  If I stay, sooner or later I'm going to have to watch you die and I just can't do that.  I can't," he said, refusing to look away from the road.

"Nick, can we talk about this at the _Riptide_?"

He shook his head.  "There's nothing else for us to talk about."

"Damn it, Nick, you saved my life, don't you understand that?  _I_ took that case, _I_ got myself in trouble with O'Riley, and _I_ nearly had my brains caved in for me, but _you_ stopped him.  I owe you my life."

"If I hadn't gone off half-cocked and nailed O'Riley in the parking lot he wouldn't've come back in the first place."

"You're impossible!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Cody stood in front of the sliding door, blocking Nick's exit.  "Look, Nick, you can't go around shutting everyone out of your life just because you're too afraid to care about someone other than yourself!" he argued.  "The war's over.  Let it go."

"I do what I want.  Nobody tells me how to live my life."

"You have to be the most stubborn, hard-headed–"

"Flattery isn't going to work.  Will you please get out of my way so I can put this stuff in the 'Vette?"

"No.  I'm not moving until you show some sense."

Nick's eyes narrowed.  "Look, Cody, I'm leaving here, and if you don't get the hell out of the way I'm going to put you back in the hospital!"

"Damn it, Nick, you built walls against the rest of the world during the war; we all did.  When Brad died you made it a prison.  I knew you were holding back when we were at Polk, but I didn't care; I thought you'd open up sooner or later.  Then I got caught up in my own problems.  You've got to come out some day, or let someone in.  Let _me_ in, Nick.  I'm not moving.  Do what you have to."

Nick stood, his jaws twitching.  He let the duffel-bag fall to the floor and stepped up to Cody.  "Cody, please, move."

"No."

Nick pulled back and planted a solid punch into the blond's midsection.  Cody doubled over, but refused to move.  Nick drew back and leveled the detective with a second blow to the jaw.   Cody fell back against the railing, sliding down to sit on the deck.

Nick picked up the duffel and started away.

"Okay, fine, leave.  I tried, which is more than I can say for you, Ryder!"  Cody forced himself to his feet, knowing this was his last shot.  "I thought I knew you, man, but I was wrong.  I knew another man.  I knew someone who cared about other people, not just himself.

"I knew a man who risked his life over and over for me, _and_ for the men in his unit.  That was a man who cared, maybe too much, but we all knew it, no matter what walls he tried to put up.  We knew, Nick.  That man cried when we lost Charlie that night in Pleiku.  That Nick Ryder went back and pulled him out so his family would have a body to bury.

"That man was my friend, he was my partner, and he might've been again.  I don't know who you are, but whoever you are . . . get the hell off my boat!"

Cody swung around and leaned over the rail as he felt the hospital breakfast surge up his throat.  His head pounded and bright yellow and white spots were emerging from the fringes of his awareness.  He heaved twice before the spots clouded over his vision and he felt himself start to fall.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Cody opened his eyes to find himself lying on his bunk, a cold washcloth resting on his forehead.  He frowned when Nick entered the room, a glass of water in his hand.

"You want to try a sip?" the pilot asked.

Cody nodded.

The dark-haired man sat down on the side of the bunk and helped him with the glass, saying, "I called the doctor.  He said you don't have to go back to the hospital unless you want to, provided you stay in bed for the next couple of days and you don't black out again."

"Shouldn't," Cody wheezed, "unless you deck me again."

Nick blushed a deep red that brought a smile to Cody's lips.  "Look, I'm really sorry…"  He rose, unwilling to let Cody see the confusion and emotions he was fighting to control.

"Where're you going?"

"To get you a milkshake," he said shakily.  "The doctor said it'd help settle your stomach, and the sugar's good for you.  What flavor you want?"

"Chocolate."

"Okay.  I'll be back in a few minutes."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Cody lounged on the deck seat in the late afternoon sun and sipped on an iced tea.  Three months and Nick was still living on the _Riptide_.  He was also a full partner in the agency, doing the majority of the work while Cody finished healing up.

Nick still hadn't broken past the walls he'd erected.  If anything, he'd retreated further behind them – but at least he was working.

 _And at least he's still here_ , Cody thought.  _As long as I can keep him here I can keep working on tearing down those walls_.

He heard the familiar sound of the 'Vette pulling up at the pier and parking.  The case must have gone easier than Nick expected.

 _Maybe I'll treat us to a steak at Straightaway's tonight_ , Cody decided.  _See if I can't get Nick to talk more about what he's been doing for the last four years_.

Cody listened to the approaching boat shoes, wondering just what it was that made him want to reach Nick so intensely.  He'd met many men in Vietnam and in the Army.  Why was Nick Ryder different from the rest?  What was it that had made him seek out Nick at the party and then follow it up with the invitation to live on the _Riptide_ and work with him?

"Cody?"

Allen opened his eyes and looked up into the concerned face of his partner.  "Huh?"

"Sorry, guess you were dozing."

"No, I was thinking."

"Well, don't strain yourself or anything."

Cody momentarily contemplated beaning the man with the glass he still held, but then thought better of it.  "Did you wrap up the McMurty case?"

"Yeah.  Mr. McMurty _was_ seeing another woman; he was seeing a psychic, but it wasn't out of lust."

"What?"

"Yeah," Nick chuckled.  "Seems he got a premonition that he was going to die soon in a car accident.  Seeing as how he's a cab driver, ole Freddy decided to go to a psychic and see if she couldn't fix it up for him so he'd be safe."

"Oh, jeeze."  The two men looked at one another and began to laugh.

It took several minutes before they could get past the giggling that set in whenever one of them tried to break into regular conversation.  When they finally did, Cody stood and headed inside, explaining that they were heading over to Straightaway's for a dinner out.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

They ordered, then sat in silence waiting for the waitress to bring them their drinks.  Once she did, Nick looked over at Cody and started haltingly.  "Cody, when I was driving back today, I was thinking about Brad… and what you said, and…"  He trailed off, taking a deep swallow of the draft.

"What?"

"You were right," Nick replied flatly.  "Look, when I was a kid, more than anything I wanted to fit in, you know?  But it never seemed to work.  When I got to high school I worked hard to make friends, maybe too hard, I don't know, but I finally felt like I found a place to belong.  Then, when I got out and went overseas, I guess I was still trying.  I wanted to be a good pilot, too, so I worked my tail off.  I flew missions no one else would take, worked with guys others were afraid to, you name it.  Then, all of a sudden, I started to notice that those people were dying."

"It was a war, Nick, people die in wars."

"I know that, _now_ , but at the time it was like I was being… left alone, abandoned?  Like it was when I was a kid, I guess, but that's another story."

Cody nodded, urging Nick to continue.

"When I got that battlefield commission I was odd man out again.  The enlisted guys and the warrant officers didn't know what to make of me, and the officers thought I was stepping on their exclusive territory.  That's when Bull came along and pulled me into the unit.  I felt like I was home again.  I would've died for you guys a hundred times over if I had to."

"I know," Cody said softly.  "We all knew."

They paused while the young woman brought their steaks over and set them down.

"Those guys were special to me," Nick said when she left.

Cody nodded again, understanding exactly what Nick was saying, having felt the same way himself.  And he suddenly realized that one of the reasons he'd felt so compelled to reach out to Nick was because he, too, had built the same walls.  He hadn't let anyone in either.  The realization shook him.

"…and, maybe I'm wrong, but we worked damn well together, man.  You know?"

"Yeah, I know," Cody said.

"I guess I had the walls up over there, and maybe they've been there all along, but with you it was different.  Does this make any sense?"

Cody nodded again.  "Yes.  It does.  More than you know."

"Glad to hear it.  When the war was over, it was like I was being left all alone again.  You left, Rick, Sammy, everyone but Brad.  I tried to build with him what you and I had developed over twenty-one months of jungle fighting.  It didn't work, I mean, it couldn't… but when I flew off and left him there… I was leaving _you_."

Nick looked up from his plate, meeting Cody's eyes.  The blond offered him a small smile.  "But it wasn't me."

Nick shrugged.  "Felt like it.  When I got home, my grandmother was dead, the guys I knew were all gone, my mom was a stranger, or maybe I was.  She died before I had a chance to find out.  Then we met up again and I thought it was over, but you opted out and I was alone again.  I started to feel jinxed.  I guess I've just been too afraid to let anyone in since then."

The two men fell silent.

Nick remembered carrying his old uniforms, orders, pictures and his journals – the notebooks full of all the horror and death, full of the men he'd known and who had died; notebooks full of memories that he wanted to forget, but couldn't – out to his grandmother's backyard and tossing them into a pile.  He set them on fire.

One of the neighbors called the fire department and the cops, and Nick nearly spent time in jail for refusing to put the blaze out, then hauling off and decking the young officer who mocked everything Ryder had spent three years protecting…

That's when he'd retreated inside the walls and decided not to come out again.

Cody sat his fork down and drained half his beer before he looked at Nick and said, "I did exactly the same thing, Nick.  I didn't realize it until just now, but I did.  You know, I think that's why I knew something was wrong with you.  I could see my own fears in your eyes."

"Really?"

"Yes," Cody said.  "Really.  I guess I built my walls when I was a kid…"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

If felt good to finally talk to someone who could understand his life, and Nick was feeling great as he and Cody walked back to the _Riptide_.  For the first time in many years, he felt like he had a place, a purpose.  He had a friend again.

"You know," Cody said quietly, "I didn't know what to make of you when I joined the unit.  At first I thought you were out to play the hero, but it was clear the guys thought a lot of you, and guys with egos just didn't get that kind of respect, so I watched.  Know what I saw?"

Nick looked away, embarrassed.  "No."

"I saw one of the bravest men I'd ever met, not to mention one of the best damn pilots who flew over there.  You know, this is going to sound really silly."

"What, you sort of thought of me as a brother?"

"Yeah," Cody chuckled, surprised that Nick had seen so clearly what the detective had felt.  It was a talent he'd forgotten Ryder had.

"Me, too."

"Huh?"

Nick smiled.  "I kind of imagined you as a brother, too.  You and Brad.  I'd've been proud to call you guys blood."

The two men looked at one another.

"Friends?" Cody asked.

Nick nodded.  "Partners?"

Cody nodded.  It was a good start.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The pair climbed onto the _Riptide_ , laughing again over the details of the McMurty case.  Nick didn't see the flash from the silenced revolver, but he saw Cody thrown back against the railing of the boat, then tipping back, falling into the water.

Nick spun, diving for cover and reaching for the .45 shoved in the back of his jeans.  Carlos O'Riley stood, grinning as he fired on Nick.  "Goodbye, asshole," the big man said.

Nick jumped as the bullets ripped off pieces of the wooden deck, showering him with sharp fragments.  He twisted around the side of the wall and fired at the man, who took cover across the deck.

"Cody!" Nick called out, but there was no answer.  "Damn," he breathed, working his way around so he could sneak up the stairs to the wheelhouse of the boat.

Crouching beneath the wall, he listened to the big man as O'Riley made his way along the side of the boat.  Moving across to the opposite side, Nick waited for Carlos to reach the front and start down the other side.  When he sounded even with Nick the detective stood and swung the gun over the edge. 

O'Riley glared up at the man as Nick fired.  The bullet hit the man mid-chest, but he remained standing.

Swinging the silenced gun up, O'Riley squeezed off another round as Nick fired also a second time.  But a second report rang out with Nick's, and as the dark-haired man felt O'Riley's slug cut across his upper arm he saw Cody standing below him, gun in hand.

Carlos remained on his feet a moment longer and then fell heavily onto the deck.  Nick leaned against the wheelhouse door and listened as Cody climbed the stairs to join him.

"You okay?" the blond detective asked.

Nick opened his eyes.  "I'll be fine.  I think I want a raise, though.  How 'bout you?"

"Just a graze.  Lucky.  I don't know about a raise, but I have a feeling we're going to need one damn good insurance policy."

Nick smiled.  Stepping up, he wrapped his uninjured arm around Cody's wet shoulders.  "I'm beginning to think you're the jinx."

"Thanks, Nick.  Thanks."

"Don't mention it, I mean, what're friends and partners for?"

Cody smiled, patting the small of Nick's back.  "Come on, it's time to call the cops and wait for another trip to the ER."

"I could really learn to hate that place," Nick grumbled.

"Yeah, me, too."

The End


End file.
